When the Phoenix Cries
by Harry'sPatronus
Summary: HP's fifth year...PG for extreme angst in certain parts...:) R&R!
1. Chapter 1

Chapter 1: The Meeting of Death  
  
The house was dark when the Dark Lord and Wormtail arrived, causing it to look older and more mysterious than ever before. When the two of them walked into that oh-so-familiar parlour on the second floor, they felt at home immediately. It had been a year since they had taken residence in the Riddle House; Voldemort was now risen, and could walk around freely. "Incarnum Inflamara," he whispered. After a small fire was lit in the hearth, he walked over to the window. Dusk had arrived on the hilltop, but the grounds were still visible. Taking in the sights and landscapes of the outdoor gardens, he realised that they, just like the rest of the manor, had become overgrown and shabby. He smiled with childish delight as he remembered why the gardens were overgrown . . . "Wormtail...come here...and give me your arm..."  
"Y-Yes Master," Wormtail stuttered. He walked over to Voldemort, rolling his left sleeve up to his shoulder. Voldemort's finger pressed the mark, making it turn a bright green colour.   
"The Death-Eaters and Dementors should be here soon," Voldemort mumbled to himself. "...Yes...They have arrived," he said aloud, smiling. Men in masks were apparating into the room randomly, and when they had all arrived, Voldemort spoke again. "My friends," he said, sitting in an armchair by the fire. "It is good to see you all again. It has been quite a short while since we last met. Three months to be exact.   
"As most of you know," Voldemort continued, glaring towards the door, where Snape was standing, "Harry Potter ceased to die during our last meeting, slipping away by a mere lucky chance. Next time, however, he will not get away."  
"But Master, how do you plan to carry this out?" Lucius Malfoy asked loudly.   
"That, Lucius," Voldemort replied, "will be a surprise for you all." His red eyes glinted with malice. "You will be...quite involved."   
The circle of Death-Eaters seemed to tremble with excitement; Dementors nodded their hooded heads.  
"Master, what's that sound?" Wormtail said from across the room. He was sitting beside Voldemort's chair, breaking rat bones with his silver hand. Nagini circled him silently.   
"Sound? What sound-" Voldemort was interrupted by children's laughter. They were running down the corridor towards the room, like many children before them. "Muggles," he snarled. The Dark Lord stood up suddenly and walked across the room to the door. He pushed Snape as he opened it, and he walked quietly into the hall.   
* * *  
Who is that? Chris wondered. He had just been playing a little game of tag with Jamie, when a skinny bloke walked into the hall where they were playing.   
"Hello Muggles," the man had said. He most certainly didn't look like a man. His red eyes and pointed face made him look like a snake or something. And what was a 'Muggle'?   
"Who're you?" Jamie asked slowly.   
"Who am I? Oh I'm just wondering who you are, Muggle. What are you doing in an old, rotting house such as this?" He sneered an awful smile, and pulled a long stick out of his odd looking dressing gown. "Imperio" he'd said twice. He and Jamie were immediately pulled into a dreamy state, and the next thing they new, they were inside a large untidy room. The walls were a deep red. There were pictures on the walls as well. Pictures of a man, and what looked like his parents. They stared at the pictures for a moment, but then the man spoke again.   
  
* * *  
  
"Wormtail. Put them in chairs and tie them up," he said lazily.   
"Yes, My Lord," Wormtail replied. He stood up and walked across the room to the children, one of which was playing with her hair.   
"Stop, Jamie!" whispered the boy. He looked frightened, but she looked worse. She was trembling uncontrollably. They were shoved into chairs, and tight ropes were tied around them.   
"Please don't hurt us, sir!" Jamie screamed. She was sobbing now, and the boy called Chris was attempting to calm her down with soothing words.   
"Crucio!" Voldemort said suddenly. He watched with satisfaction as they screamed, twitching in pain. The pain stopped suddenly, and they were left shaking uncontrollably. Voldemort chuckled softly to himself. "Do you want me to do that again, do you Muggles?"  
Jamie shook her head slowly, a petrified look dawning in her eyes.  
"Avada Kedavra" she heard him say, and the last thing she saw was a flash of green light, before Voldemort killed her and her brother. 


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2: The Journey to Hogwarts and the Feast  
  
Harry Potter walked through King's Cross absent-mindedly, headed for platform 9 3/4. The Dursleys, wanting to get rid of him as quickly as possible, had dropped him off at the station's front entrance. Before long, he was jogging happily into the wall between platforms nine and ten. After a split second, he was there. The whistle on the scarlet steam engine blew, and Harry stepped onto the train, walking along the corridor in search of Hermione and Ron's compartment. "Harry! Harry over here!" He heard Ron screaming from the compartment beside him.   
"Hey, Ron. Hey Hermione. Did you have a good time in Bulgaria with Krum, Hermione?"  
"It was wonderful! Oh, you should see their library! Hundreds of thousands of books! All on Dark Magic! -(Ron rolled his eyes)- It's always so cold in the mountains, but I suppose it's not too bad. There is only one thing for certain: I would never want to stay at Durmstrang. It's so depressing, even with Karkaroff gone."  
"Well, at least you had a good time with Vickie. That's always great to know," Ron sneered. Hermione smiled at him sarcastically, showing her straightened teeth.   
"Yes, I did have a good time, thank you very much! It was a lot more interesting to be there, than to be here listening to you whine!"   
"Whining, am I?"  
"Yes, you are -"   
"Shut up, both of you!" Harry screamed from the corner. They'd obviously forgotten he was there, for when they looked around, looked as surprised as ever.   
  
* * *  
  
The time passed quickly after the fight. Fred and George walked quietly into the trio's compartment while Harry and Ron were playing Wizards Chess and lit a dung bomb. The twins laughed hysterically as they watched Ron and Harry jump up quickly - Hermione followed suit-and open the compartment door. They ran into the deserted hallway, and Harry watched in amazement as Ron did something that he half expected. He ran to the lunch trolley and bought a box of Bertie Bott's Every Flavour Beans. ("A Risk with Every Mouthful!") When Ron turned round to see Harry and Hermione watching him, he simply said, "I need something to take my mind off the smell." He shrugged quickly, and they walked back into their compartment quietly. Finally, Hermione spoke up.  
"I wonder who our new Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher will be?" she asked aloud.   
"I dunno," came Ron's muffled voice through a mouthful of beans, "but I hope their not another mad man." Ron was obviously referring to Mad-Eye Moody, who was their Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher last year. He'd turned out to be an impostor under the Polyjuice Potion, however, so no telling what the real Moody was like, thought he was probably just as fidgety. Moody was an Auror, and held the bad habit of hexing people for no good reason. Moody'd even turned Draco Malfoy, Harry's arch-nemesis and least favourite person, into a white ferret once. Voldemort, Snape, The Dursleys, Voldemort, and Voldemort were just a few of his other least favourite people.   
"We'd better put our robes on, as we're nearly there," Hermione said. They put on their black robes quietly and sat down. Hermione put on her pointed hat quietly.   
"Hermione, you don't have to put that on yet," Ron said quietly.   
"I know that, but I want to make a good impression."  
Ron rolled his eyes and gave Harry a funny look. He knew that look well. That was the, "can-you-believe-her?" look that Ron always gave him.   
  
* * *  
  
They got off the train and walked through down the platform. Harry immediately noticed that Hagrid was not there to greet the students, and instead Professor McGonagall was taking first years to the enchanted boats.   
Harry, Ron, and Hermione walked over towards the entrance to the Hogwarts Grounds, stepping up into a carriage quickly. It immediately started off. They didn't talk much along the way. Harry watched the Giant Squid as it swished the water with its tentacles, obviously trying to help move the boats on their way. The carriage travelled up the road, and the next thing they new, they were inside the Great Hall, enjoying the feast. After the first years were freshly sorted, Dumbledore stood up to give First Years few reminders.  
"Students should note," he said loudly, "That the Dark Forest is forbidden to all, and that magic is not to be performed in the corridors. Mr. Filch would like to remind you all that he has extended the detention this year"- groans from the students - "to three hours instead of two. Thank you." He sat down, and Harry scanned the rest of the High Table curiously. He almost fell out of his seat when he looked beside Dumbledore. There was someone he knew quite well sitting there. Dumbledore saw him staring and stood up again.  
"I would also," he said loudly, getting everyone's attention, "like to welcome Fleur Delacour into our Hogwarts family."- "Lost all his marbles, that one", Ron said quickly. - "She will be your new Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher."  
Harry glanced over to Ron, who looked thunderstruck at the idea. 


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3: Classes Begin  
  
* * *  
  
"I can't believe they chose her to be our new teacher," Ron yawned from his four-poster later that night.   
"Oh get over it, Ron. You know you like her," but this reply was worth nothing, as Ron was fast asleep.  
  
* * *  
Next morning, Harry woke up and walked to the Great Hall alone. He found Ron and Hermione eating toast at the Gryffindor table, and sat down beside them.   
"We got our schedules. Here's yours," Ron muttered, handing Harry his schedule. He looked at it, chewing some toast as he read. He had Potions, Divination, and Defence Against the Dark Arts today. He looked down the table and saw Ginny, who was looking at her schedule sadly. She saw him and mouthed the words, "I've History of Magic first." Harry nodded understandingly. He knew all too well how boring that class was.   
"Oh no! We have Divination with the Slytherins first!" Ron exclaimed. Hermione grinned smugly. "Shut up Hermione. I didn't ask you."  
"I have Muggle Studies. I'll bet you wish you were taking it now, don't you Ron?" she asked.   
"N-no! No I don't!" he lied.   
Harry stood up.   
"Where're you going, Harry?" Hermione asked.   
"To the Common Room," he said quickly, running out of the Hall. He didn't think he could stand Hermione and Ron's fuss anymore. When got to the Fat Lady, he paused. What's the password? he asked himself.   
"Something the matter, dear?" she asked.   
"Rictusempra," Harry said quickly, remembering at just the right moment.   
"That's the ticket, dear," she said cheerfully, swinging open to reveal the portrait hole. He walked up to his dormitory, plopping down on his bed.  
  
* * *  
  
Harry looked at his watch. He'd lain there for thirty minutes. He got up and walked out of the common room quickly. He had to get to Divination! He climbed the golden ladder in silence, dreading walking into the room. When Trelawny saw him, she went mad.   
"The thirteenth shall die," she mumbled absent-mindedly. "Please sit down, dear. Class is about to start." He hated it when she did that.   
"Hey," Ron said gloomily.   
"What's wrong, Ron?"  
"Oh nothing. It's just...Hermione. Does she have to rub everything in?"   
"I think so, it's just because-" Harry had nearly told Ron why Hermione teased him so much, but was interrupted by Professor Trelawny's distant voice.   
"Good afternoon class," she said softly, standing up. "All this month, we will be practising advanced palm reading, or reading into the future life of your partner. Everyone find a partner. Quickly." Harry paired up with Ron. He glanced over toward Malfoy, who'd paired with Padma Patil, leaving Crabbe and Goyle looking stupidly confused.   
"Please take out Unfogging the Future and turn to page 396. Grab your partner's hand like so," she grabbed Neville's hand, "and begin reading it, using your book's instruction as a guideline." She sat back down. Ron took Harry's hand and began running his fingers down the lines. He looked at his book.   
"Yes...you're going to have a very long life...err," he paused, "...you're going to...grow up to be Minister of Magic...er... don't forget your wife of twenty years." He winked at Harry, who immediately thought of Cho Chang.   
"Dears? Might I help?" Professor Trelawny was leaning over Ron, her magnified eyes staring intently at Harry. Oh no, he thought. She pushed Ron away, taking Harry's palm up and reading it. "Oh no, oh no! This can't be!" she exclaimed. Harry rolled his eyes.   
"What is it?" he said lazily, already guessing the answer.  
"You will die! This line! See that?" she pointed to a particularly long line on his hand, "That line is a sign of death!"   
"Everyone dies, Professor," Ron said, annoyed.   
"A sign of early death," she replied. She was glaring at Ron, her overlarge eyes livid. "It is such a sorry thing. No one is as sorry as I," she said.  
"What else is new?" Ron said quietly in Harry's ear. Harry smiled.   
"I beg you pardon?" she whispered. Her drifting voice was gone, only to be replaced by a very sharp one.   
"Nothing."  
The rest of the day passed quite uneventfully until Potions. Snape had been yelling at Neville to fix his Truth Potion, when Harry'd begun to drift off to sleep. He suddenly felt a nudge on the arm and woke up. "What?" he asked loudly. He opened his eyes. Snape was leaning over his desk, eyes flashing dangerously.   
"Taking a little nap, are we, Potter?" The Slytherins laughed at this, but Harry ignored them. "Ten points from Gryffindor, Potter, because you can't manage to stay awake during a lesson." He smirked. "You should be glad I don't give you a detention for this, which I should." Snape backed up, walking to his desk and grabbing a quill and parchment. After writing down the points deducted, he faced the class. "Now that Potter's done sleeping, we can continue," Snape murmured. "Add your Unicorn hairs and stir. If it doesn't turn purple, you've done something wrong," he glanced over to Neville, who was fidgeting with his potion ingredients, looking for his glass stirring tool. He found the utensil, stirred the potion and, to his surprise, it turned purple. Neville breathed a sigh of relief.  
"Now all we have to do is try them on someone," Snape said slowly.   
He turned to Harry, but the bell rang before he could continue.   
* * *  
"I don't think he noticed," Ron said as the trio walked out of the classroom thirty minutes later, "but my potion was blue." He grinned over at Hermione, who frowned while glaring at him with an annoyed look   
"I can't believe you!" she told him. "You could've asked me-" she stopped speaking abruptly, however, when she ran into someone.   
"Ugh!" Draco Malfoy wiped himself off quickly, as though she had germs. He looked up. "Why don't you watch were you're going, Mudblood?" he sneered. "I don't fancy catching your germs, thanks." Ron advanced on him, but Hermione caught onto his robes. "When did you get a girlfriend, Weasel? Mudbloods don't make good ones, if you ask me. Well, I suppose Mudblood filth and Wizard filth work quite well together," he smirked. Hermione glared at him.   
"Shut up, Malfoy!" Hermione shrieked. She was outraged.   
"Why don't you make me?" he asked, staring her in the eyes. He turned, walking down the hall toward the Slytherin common room. Crabbe and Goyle followed behind, slumping lower and lower every step of the way. Harry noticed this and smiled to himself. He was glad he didn't hang around with stupid people.   
The three of them climbed the steps to the entrance hall quickly, and Harry spoke up. "Well, at least we know one thing: You're not filth, Ron, and Hermione's not either. If anyone's filth it's Malfoy. He just doesn't admit it."  
"Can't he just put a sock in it-"  
"Mr. Weasley, Mr. Potter, please follow me," Dumbledore's voice interrupted Ron. "I need a word or two with you." He beckoned them up the marble staircase silently, and before long, they reached the familiar stone Gargoyle.   
"Bertie Bott's Every Flavour Beans," Dumbledore mumbled, and the gargoyle moved aside, revealing the moving spiral staircase. They stepped onto it, and after a short while, reached the top. They stepped off, and Dumbledore walked in. Ron and Harry followed apprehensively. What had they done this time? Dumbledore went to his desk and sat down behind them. He motioned them toward him.   
"Please sit down. I have something to tell you," he said, and he looked old at that moment. Old and sad, but Harry couldn't even guess why. He sat down in the chair in front of Dumbledore's desk while Ron did the same. As watched Dumbledore sit there, his blue eyes twinkling with what looked like silent tears, Ron had tried to look strong. He didn't know, however, that the little strength he held would soon be gone, only to be replaced by sadness... 


	4. Chapter 4

Disclaimer: Everything you recognise is not mine, everything you do not recognise is mine.  
  
Chapter 4: Just a Coincidence?   
  
  
Harry turned as the office door creaked open, revealing Ginny Weasley.   
"Hello Miss Weasley. Please come sit down," Dumbledore said quietly, his voice oddly strained. Ginny walked forward slowly, sitting in a chair beside Ron.   
"This is all very hard," Dumbledore began, choosing his words carefully.  
"What happened?" Ginny asked, dreading the answer.   
"That's exactly what I was going to tell you. Your mother stays at home, does she not?" Ron and Ginny nodded. "Well," - he paused - "she was asleep, when someone showed up in your home last night. They tortured her for Harry's personal information, because - though you three don't know her secrets - she knows some of the information very well...  
"According to the Dark Force Defence League, the intruders performed the Cruciatus Curse several times. When she would not offer information, they killed her," he concluded.   
Harry and Ron stared blankly at the wise old wizard, unable to believe what they were hearing. This can't be happening...this can't be, Harry thought, not again.   
"Are you sure, sir? They could've made a mistake...people make mistakes all the time," said Harry, trying to persuade the ancient wizard to think sensibly. "She hasn't gone has she?"  
"Voldemort has his ways, Harry. You know that," he replied.   
"Where's Dad?" Ron asked quietly, his voice barely audible.   
"He's at the Ministry speaking with Fudge. He has to work out funeral arrangements. We are all quite lucky that your father was at work during the incident and not at home. I am quite sorry I had to tell you three so frankly.   
"Just remember this: If you need anything, anything at all, just come to my office. You may go," he concluded.   
"Professor?" Ron asked quietly.  
"Yes, Mr. Weasley?"  
"What about Fred and George?"  
"They've been told."  
  
* * *  
Harry and Ron stood up, watching as Ginny ran out of the office.   
"Where's Ginny going?" Harry asked.   
"Dunno," mumbled Ron. He looked awful. His ears were white, instead of their normal pink colour. "I'm going to bed."  
"R-Right," Harry said as the two of them walked out of the office and into the corridor. .   
Harry went down to dinner alone, meeting up with Hermione in the Entrance Hall. "Where's Ron?" she asked slowly.  
"He...er... he went to bed," Harry replied.   
"Why? It's only six-"  
"I know... He's really ... really sad right now."  
"Is there a reason for that? Why should he be sad?" she asked as they sat down at the Gryffindor table.   
"It's his mum, Mrs. Weasley ...er...she died," Harry said, feeling awkward.   
"What do you mean she died?" Hermione asked, her voice becoming alert.   
"She was killed by Death Eaters," he said slowly, before getting up from the table. "I have to go...I'll see you in the common room." Hermione looked concerned as she watched Harry walk out of the Hall. Harry ran up the staircase quickly. As he ran past Filch's office, he had to dodge a load of Dungbombs as Peeves threw them from the ceiling.   
"PEEVES!" he heard Filch screaming. "I'll have you this time, Peeves! You just wait!" After a moment, he'd reached Gryffindor Tower, and was inside the warm Common Room. He ran up to his dormitory and grabbed Quidditch through the Ages off of his nightstand, which he had borrowed (for probably the 20th time) from Madame Pince. He walked down the spiral staircase quickly, and went to the fire, where he was planning on claiming the chair nearest the hearth. He was obviously too late, though, because he found Ginny there, crying silently into her hands. So, instead he settled for a couch and turned to a random page in the book. He needed to take his mind off things... He read to himself:  
"Chapter Nine: the Development of the Racing Broom  
"Until the early 19th century, Quidditch was played on brooms of varying quality..." he stopped. Why is it so quiet all of the sudden? He thought to himself. He looked to his right. Ginny was staring at him, her face streaked with tears. 


	5. Chapter 5

Disclaimer: Everything you recognise is not mine, everything you do not recognise is mine.  
  
A/N: Thanks to Sarah for helping me write this chapter! (And Mattie for making me write! :)) Hope you all like it!   
Chapter 5: Reflections   
  
"Er...Ginny?" Harry said. "Are you - Are you alright?"  
  
"You know what it's like, right?" Ginny said, wiping her eyes on her sleeve.   
  
"Know what what's like?" he asked her.   
  
"You know what it's like to - to not have anyone?"   
  
Harry stared at her.   
  
What was that s'posed to mean? He thought to himself.   
  
"I - I.... Erm..." Harry stood there for a moment trying to figure out what he should say to 'comfort' her. "You just...sort of...have to learn to cope..." How was Harry supposed to know? He had been an orphan ever since the age of one! He didn't know...until that hug in his fourth year...then he had realised what it felt like to be truly alone. How it felt to not really have anyone. Except for Mrs. Weasley, of course. She'd always been there for him.   
  
'"Learn to cope...learn to cope...that's all you have to say?" Ginny cried, fresh tears streaming down her face. "I thought that you, of all people, would know that it isn't easy!"  
  
* * *  
  
"I'm sorry, Harry," she whispered after a moment. "I didn't mean it...I'm just a little upset..."  
  
"That's alright...er... No big deal," Harry said. "Well...if you're all right...."   
  
"Er...yeah...I'm - I'm fine," she said slowly. She turned around and sat down in the chair. Harry grabbed his book and ran up to his dormitory quickly, not looking back.   
* * *  
  
Harry put on his pyjamas and climbed into his four-poster. Mrs. Weasley isn't dead, no; this is just a terrible nightmare...nothing more, nothing less...just another terrible nightmare....   
'But, then again', a voice called from the back of his head, 'you saw the look on Dumbledore's face when he told you...' Harry felt sorry for Ron, who he knew mustn't have taken the news well. And Ginny...Fred...George... what must they all think? Ginny, Harry knew, was probably crying so much it stung her eyes. Fred and George had probably done the same as Ron and gone to bed early. All in all, he probably felt nothing compared to them...  
After Harry had lain there for a while, thinking things over, he'd finally drifted off into a fitful sleep... 


	6. Chapter 6

Disclaimer: Everything you recognise is not mine, everything you do not recognise is mine.  
  
Chapter 6: A Forbidden Trip   
  
Harry woke up next morning and looked around. Ron must be down at breakfast, Harry thought. He walked out of the common room quickly, sprinting down the corridor towards the Great Hall. (what can I say? He was hungry!) He sat down beside Ron, who was listening to Hermione. She was speaking to him in a soothing voice and telling him to eat.  
"You really do need to eat, Ron," Harry piped up. He began to eat a piece of toast as they talked. Hermione turned to him.   
"You remember about that Banshee essay that we have for Defence against the Dark Arts, don't you?" she reminded him, a reproving look lingering on her face.  
"Yeah, of course!" Harry exclaimed, trying to sound enthusiastic.   
"Then how much have you done?"  
"One roll," he replied.  
"We have to complete three, and you're only on your first roll?" She rolled her eyes.   
"Look, Hermione," Harry said calmly, "I'm going to get it done, so does it really matter?"  
"Yes, it does! What about Ron? How much has he done?"   
"I've finished it," Ron said quietly.   
"Finished it? You finished it?" Hermione asked, surprised.   
"Yeah," he replied. "There wasn't much else to do last night," Ron shrugged.  
There was a swishing sound from overhead, and Harry knew exactly what it meant. Hedwig landed on the table, nipping Harry playfully on the ear.   
"Hey Hedwig," he said to her, as she ate some of his toast. "What do you have for me?" She held out her leg, allowing him to untie the letter that was attached. He opened it and read aloud:  
  
Harry,  
  
I know you are probably looking forward to your first Hogsmeade weekend. -"I almost forgot that was today!" Ron said, finally sounding cheerful - but I must tell you not to go. You know that Voldemort is growing stronger, and I don't want anything to happen. Muggles are being killed each day, along with important witches and wizards all around Britain, adding to my concern for your safety. Stay on the alert, and please write me back as soon as you can!  
  
Sirius  
  
  
  
"Why does he have to do that?" Harry said angrily, slamming his fist on the table. "He's the one who signed the form allowing me to go to Hogsmeade!"  
  
"Harry, he's worried about you...he doesn't want you getting hurt," Hermione said, frowning. "Hogsmeade isn't protected in any way! You-Know-Who could strike and no one would know until hours later...It's just not safe..."  
  
Harry agreed silently to himself, but he didn't feel like telling Hermione she was right.  
  
"Hermione's right, Harry," said Ron, shrugging. "You could just not go this time..."  
  
"No! I'll wear the invisibility cloak! There's no way Voldemort could see me under that!" Harry said, standing up quickly.  
  
"Harry -" but before Hermione could finish he had already gone.   
  
* * *  
  
"I solemnly swear I am up to no good," Harry whispered, looking around apprehensively as students headed for Hogsmeade.   
He watched as the map showed itself, and he walked to the one-eyed witch after making sure no teachers were near. "Dissendium," he whispered, and the hole formed. He stepped through, walking down the dusty passage to the Honeydukes cellar. When he reached the trap door, Harry climbed through, closing it seamlessly behind him. He climbed the stairs cautiously, nimbly missing a worker, who was carrying a large box of Canary Creams up the stairs while humming a Weird Sisters tune. Harry looked for Ron and Hermione as he entered the shop. They were standing over by the Fizzing Whizbees, talking to each other in hushed voices. Harry moved in closer to hear what they were saying.  
  
"Ron, I don't want to talk about it," Hermione said, sounding agitated. "Harry shouldn't have come, and I'm glad he didn't. He would just be putting himself in more danger."  
"Too bad I did then," Harry said in her ear. Hermione jumped.  
"Harry? What are you doing here?" Hermione asked, outraged.   
"Well, I just wanted to come. I dunno," he shrugged.  
"Where are you, anyway?" Ron asked, his hands flailing blindly around him.   
"Right beside you," Harry directed. "To your right."  
"Oh, okay. Well, we need to go. Everyone's looking at us like we're mad."  
  
* * *  
  
The three of them walked into Zonko's Joke Shop a few minutes later, nearly running into Fred and George, who were talking to Mr. Zonko in a business-like manner. The twins turned toward them.  
"What are you two doing here?" Fred asked, glancing with a wink at the large space that was Harry.   
"We just came to have a look around," Ron said casually. "Why are you here?"  
Fred tried to look insulted, and replied, in a mock-Percy attitude, "Well, Ronald, we were initially speaking with Mr. Zonko about our merchandise. We're trying to make a profit," he raised an eyebrow. Harry choked a laugh from underneath his cloak. He knew that persona from anywhere. "Now if you'll excuse us," George continued, "we have a proposal to offer. Now go away," he whispered.   
"Yes, Weatherby," Ron replied, putting his hand up to his forehead in mock salute. Fred snorted.   
They walked to the other side of the shop, Ron leading the way, stopping them in front of a bag of dung bombs. Fred watched, swelling with pride. "He makes me proud," he said, "taking after us like that." George nodded as Ron grabbed the largest bag, which read 'New and Improved'and walked to the front counter. After paying the cashier six sickles, the three of them walked out of the shop and headed for The Three Broomsticks. They walked in and were greeted immediately by Madam Rosmerta.  
"Welcome to The Three Broomsticks! How may I help you?" she asked them warmly as they sat down at a nearby table   
"Er...could we have three butterbeers?" Ron asked. Madam Rosmerta eyed them suspiciously, but simply said "Very well," and walked away.   
"That was close," Harry whispered.   
As they sat down, she brought them their drinks and walked away. Harry drank his butterbeer down rather quickly, trying not to make much noise, out of fear of being heard. When they'd finished, feeling much warmer than before, they walked out into the cool October air. "Are we just going to go through the passage?" Harry asked, still clutching the map in his left hand.   
"Yeah," Ron whispered quietly as they went into the alleyway that was beside Honeydukes and all got under the cloak. "This is going to be hard," Ron said aloud.   
"Shush!" Hermione screeched.   
1 The three of them walked through the crowd anxiously, making sure they didn't bump into anyone. After creeping down the stairs, they felt around the ground for the trap door, and jumped down into the passage. "Lumos," Harry whispered, and the tip of his wand lit up. They walked down the tunnel for what seemed like an eternity, until they finally reached the end. They pushed open the hole and climbed through.   
"Using the map again, Mr. Potter?" a familiar voice called from their left. 


	7. Chapter 7

Disclaimer: Everything you recognise is not mine, everything you do not recognise is mine.  
  
A/N: Thanks to J. K. Rowling for giving me the inspiration for this chapter. :)  
  
Chapter 7: Invisible? Never!  
  
"Follow me, Harry," Professor Dumbledore said, a solemn look forming in his eyes. He was wearing a very sober expression.  
I knew it, Harry thought, he's going to ...expel me or something! I knew I should've listened to Hermione and not gone to Hogsmeade...   
Harry slipped out from under the Invisibility Cloak, following Dumbledore to the stone gargoyle for the second time in one week.   
"Bertie Bott's Every Flavour Beans," Dumbledore whispered. Harry watched, not surprised, as the gargoyle jumped out of the way, revealing the moving spiral staircase. Harry stepped on after Dumbledore, who was humming a song absent-mindedly. Harry stared at the wall until the duo finally reached the door leading to Dumbledore's study. Dumbledore opened it, beckoning Harry forward. The portraits on the walls were visiting with each other instead of their usual slumbers.   
"Professor?" Harry inquired, walking up to Dumbledore's desk, where the Headmaster was now seated.   
"Yes, Harry?"  
"I'm sorry for sneaking off to Hogsmeade...I - I dunno," Harry continued, " will you forgive me?"   
Dumbledore placed two ancient hands on Harry's shoulders.   
"Harry, I believe I know what you're thinking. I'm not going to expel you. That is not why you are here."  
Harry's stomach returned, and he breathed a sigh of relief.   
Dumbledore lowered his hands and surveyed Harry through his half moon spectacles.   
"It is time," he said, "for me to tell you what I should have told you five years ago, Harry. Please sit down, I am going to tell you everything."   
Harry sat down in the chair across from Dumbledore, curious to know what everything meant. 


	8. Chapter 8

Disclaimer: Everything you recognise is mine. Everything you do not recognise is mine   
  
A/N: Thanks to Mattie and Sarah!   
Chapter 8: The Truth  
"Everything, sir?"  
"Everything about your parents, Harry," Dumbledore said with a twinkle in his eye. Harry was positively bewildered, but, before long, he remembered something; something that he and Dumbledore had talked about in his first year.   
" Voldemort said that he only killed my mother because she tried to stop him from killing me. But why would he want to kill me in the first place?"  
"Alas, the first thing you ask me, I cannot tell you. Not today. Not now. You will know one day. Put it out of your mind for now, Harry. When you are older...I know you hate to hear this...when you are ready, you will know."   
Realisation set in, and Dumbledore beamed at him.  
Harry gripped the arms of his chair, waiting.  
"You must have always wondered why Voldemort would want to kill your parents," Dumbledore began, "and you are here today so that you might learn that and other things.  
"The Fidelius Charm, as Professor Flitwick may have told you, is an extremely complex spell which hides a secret inside the soul of a single individual, only to be released if the Secret Keeper chooses for it to be. Your parent's house, for certain reasons that are to be explained, was guarded with this charm so that no one could see them there. They lived in the small village of Godric's Hollow, a place where we all thought, in vain, that they would be safe. Your father, as you may have wondered, was an Auror, Harry. It wasn't a well paying profession, but the fortune given to him by his father helped him very much," Dumbledore paused. This was a lot of information for one sitting, and it took Harry a moment to take it all in.   
"Is that why I have money in my vault, Professor?" he asked.  
"Yes, Harry. Your parents made sure to put some Galleons aside for you."  
"But-"  
"You're still wondering why they were killed, aren't you?" Harry nodded.   
"You, Harry, are the last remaining heir to Godric Gryffindor. I know it may be hard," Dumbledore said, noticing Harry's puzzled expression, "but you must believe me."  
Harry stared at the portrait of a sleeping Dippet, trying to believe what he was being told. He couldn't be! He, Harry Potter, the boy who thought he was a nobody for ten years, heir to Gryffindor? It didn't fit! Or did it?   
"When I said only a true Gryffindor could have pulled the sword out of the hat, I meant it." Harry's face lighted with recognition, and Dumbledore nodded. "They were also powerful, and Voldemort was frightened that they might bring him to his downfall. He even tried, a select few times, to persuade them over to the Dark Side. Though all of these things added to Voldemort's hunger to kill your father, being Gryffindor's heir was his main reason for the murder. He killed you simply because the Gryffindor bloodline would then be thwarted, and there would be no remaining descendants. He killed your entire family on you father's side for that reason. Voldemort wasn't planning on killing your mother because she was not in the Gryffindor bloodline, but she got in the way, so he changed his plans and killed her as well.  
"After your parents were killed, Hagrid brought you to the Dursleys, where we left you on their doorstep with a note. The note told your relatives everything: what happened to your parents, your title, who Voldemort was, and information about his downfall. Everything was written in that letter. To this day, I do not know why I thought they would read it."  
"They probably didn't, Professor," Harry informed him. "They don't want anything to do with magic...I don't exactly know why..."  
"I do," Dumbledore said loudly. Harry listened intently. "I always thought Petunia Evans would be a witch with extraordinary strengths. Your mother was, of course, one of the best witches in her year, and we thought Petunia would be the same. We sent a letter to the Evan's home in Kent , but Miss Evans ignored it. Oh, what a revelation the following week became! A hundred owls all leaving the Owlery at once was quite a sight to see. She continued dismiss the letters, taking our kind as freaks, no doubt. She ignored her signs of early magical ability, leaving Lily to inform me later that Petunia had once levitated a teapot, only to claim that the window needed to be closed." Dumbledore shook his head. "I suppose there are some Muggles who just don't like anything different or suspicious. Your aunt later married someone just as close minded, and we were forced to leave you with them."  
Suddenly, Harry got an idea. "Professor, the summer before fourth year, when I had the dream, I could've sworn Voldemort was near me..." Dumbledore shook his head.   
"No, Harry, Voldemort doesn't know where to find you," he said. "The same charm that was on your parent's home is on yours. You have a Secret Keeper. Mrs. Figg is not just your neighbor, Harry."   
Finally, after all these years, Harry had closure. He understood the smell of cats in her home when he was forced to stay there. He understood why the tent at the World Cup smelt like cabbages. It was a wonderful feeling, to finally know all the things the Dursleys never told, the things they forbade him to ask about.   
"That is all, Harry. You may go," Dumbledore concluded.  
"Thank you, Professor," Harry said. He could've sworn there was a buzzing coming from the door as he stepped onto the moving stairs. 


	9. Chapter 9

Chapter 9: Time to learn what really _bugs _you…

Harry was still smiling as he sat down at the Gryffindor table. Ron looked at him.

"You're late," Ron said. 

"I know…I had to talk with Dumbledore for a moment."

"What about?" Hermione asked loudly.

"Oh, nothing. I'm sure you'll know soon enough." He served himself some pork chops. "The whole school should know by tomorrow." 

"Okay…" 

* * * 

The rest of the weekend passed quite uneventfully, and Harry woke up Monday morning feeling very groggy. He looked at his watch (Hermione had fixed it) which read: 7:30. He had thirty minutes until breakfast, which were spent down in the common room with Ron and Hermione. Ron and Hermione were playing Wizard's Chess when Harry walked in.. 

"Morning Harry," Hermione said brightly as her pawn was dragged away by Ron's bishop. 

"You should've moved your pawn," Ron teased, grinning as Hermione shot him an annoyed look.

"I think I know how to play, thanks," she retorted. Ron grinned wider still. He moved his rook into position.

"Checkmate. _That's _how you play Chess," he finished, grabbing the pieces and tossing them in a bag. Harry looked at his watch. 

"Well, now that you two are done," he interrupted them, "we can go down to breakfast." They nodded in agreement. 

* * *

Harry sat down at the table, ladling some porridge into a bowl. He had just begun to eat, when he heard a flutter of wings from above. 

"Post," Ron muttered, his mouth full of food. Hedwig landed on the table with a soft thud.

"Hi Hedwig. What d'you have for me?" he asked. She nipped him on the ear playfully. "Oh, that." He grinned as she began eating his porridge. 

"PIG!" Ron yelled. Harry looked up. Pig had landed in Ron's porridge, sagging under the weight of his burden. Ron untied the bundle from Pig's leg, unrolling the _Daily Prophet_. He began to read the headlines to himself. 

They talked for the rest of breakfast and walked out of the Great Hall feeling full as usual. They strode into the Entrance Hall, hoping, as always, that Hagrid might be back. Maybe today's Care of Magical Creatures class will go well, Harry thought as they walked through the grounds toward Hagrid's hut. They stopped abruptly after hearing a cold voice.

"Well, Potter," the voice of Draco Malfoy called from beside them, "it looks like she's still on about you, after all."

"What are you on about, Malfoy?"

"This," Malfoy continued, stepping in front of them and taking the day's _Daily Prophet_ out of his pocket. He smiled smugly at Harry and read aloud:

"Harry Potter: Love and Hate

Harry Potter is now grieving more than ever, writes Rita Skeeter, _Daily Prophet _Special Correspondent. The boy was informed on Saturday of his parent's tragic past. After being told that his father was an Auror, a job that offers very little pay, Mr. Potter was abashed and immediately fled to his dormitory, where he met Hermione Granger, the girl he continues to date at this time. The _Daily Prophet _can exclusively reveal that this young man also possesses a title, one that Albus Dumbledore, Hogwarts' Headmaster, has seemingly forgotten (old age obviously getting to him) to divulge to the Wizarding public. Harry Potter is the heir to Godric Gryffindor through his father's side, an item that adds to the envy some have for this green-eyed wizard. "He's very arrogant," stated Draco Malfoy, a handsome fifth year. "I can see him running around showing off his new title." The new information given to Harry also includes information on his Secret Keeper, material that the _Daily Prophet _is prohibited from publishing. Through all of this, we only wish Mr. Potter the best, and hope that his ashamed face will clear so we might enjoy those bright green eyes once more.

"So _that's_ why he wanted to kill you?" Malfoy asked snobbishly. "All because you have a stupid title?"

"And what if it was, Malfoy? Now _move_."

The three of them shoved him out of the way and continued walking. When they reached Hagrid's small wooden house they stopped quickly. The door swung open, and out walked someone nobody expected. 

"Hello, students," she called as two Slytherins walked toward the hut. "Some of you may remember me. My name is Professor Grubblyplank, and I am going to be teaching you whilst your normal teacher is away." Malfoy could be heard chortling a laugh. "Now, today we'll be learning about Kneazles. I have these crates full of them," she continued, pointing to the wooden crates that were situated beside her. Opening a crate, she pulled out one of the soft, furry creatures. The animal closely resembled a cat. 

"I would like each of you to come get one. Be gentle now!"

Harry walked up to the open crate, Ron and Hermione following suit behind him. He pulled one randomly out of the crate, feeling it curl up almost immediately. It was white with brown spots, and its tongue slithered out of its mouth at an uncontrollable rate, licking his face. 

"Kneazles love to be petted. They'll take to you almost immediately if you just pet them. Kneazles make wonderful house pets, seeing that they love children."

"I had one once," Ron mumbled to Harry and Hermione, "but Fred and George used him for Quidditch practise. Harry sniggered. Hermione elbowed him in the ribs, however, so he continued to – or pretended to, at least – listen to Professor Grubblyplank.

"…They enjoy finding treasure. As-a-matter-of-a-fact, they sometimes eat bogies out of one's nose whilst one sleeps."

"Well, thanks for that," Malfoy said loudly. Professor Grubblyplank glared at him. 

"Ten points from Slytherin," she said quietly and, luckily for Harry, the bell rang.

* * *

The rest of the day passed by so quickly, Harry wondered where it'd got off to, but he was happy to find himself sitting in the warm common room with Ron and Hermione later that night. He stared out the window, watching the first snowflakes of winter fall from the cloudy November sky. 

"Harry? HARRY!" Hermione called from a long way off. 

"Hmmm?" 

"Look, I'm really sorry about the article. I told her not to write another one, but you know how she is."

"It's okay…I guess," Harry whispered quietly. "Tomorrow the entire school will be talking about it."

Harry imagined (with a sudden fear) Cho Chang standing with a large group of friends, gossiping about him. The thought made him shudder.

"Well, I-I guess I'll go to bed now," Harry muttered, standing up and leaving Ron and Hermione looking bewildered. 

* * *

Harry put on his pyjamas, climbing into his four-poster sleepily. Looking out at the air-borne snowflakes, he soon fell into a fitful sleep. 

* * *

__

The hall was dark, owing to the fact that little light entered inside its walls nowadays. The floor was thick with dust. At the end of the long corridor, one could see a single door, opened slightly, a slither of light protruding from its opening...

Harry awoke suddenly, a cold sweat wetting his face. His scar was tingling, but he couldn't understand why. He remembered the dream vividly. It involved a door…a door that stood, silently…at the end of a long, dark, and dingy corridor. But what could possibly be so frightening about a door that it'd awoken him? He lay there for a while, pondering. He looked outside the window. It was still dark out, so it must have been early morning. After what seemed like an eternity, Harry decided to go down to the common room. He reached for his round glasses, putting them on over his bright green eyes. The dark room came into focus. 'Just great,' Harry thought as he walked down the spiral staircase that led to the common room. 'Two bad things happen in one day…."

He didn't expect Her to be down in the common room this late at night. He sat down in an armchair quickly. That way, maybe she wouldn't notice —

"What're you doing down here?" Too late. Harry nearly jumped a foot. 

"I couldn't sleep…had a nightmare…" he answered. Ginny looked at him curiously. 

"It won't interest you. Quite stupid, really—"

"Well, what was it then? I won't laugh, I swear," she said. 

" I dreamt…. I dreamt about a door. It really scared me, and I can't understand why…So why are you up, anyway?"

"I have dreams sometimes. Repeating nightmares, you know?"

Harry nodded understandingly, and Ginny blushed a deep crimson. 

"I come down here a lot. Helps me sleep," Ginny continued, yawning. 

Harry turned and looked out the window. It was no longer snowing, and the sky shone with stars. 

"I-I er…" he said, turning towards her. Ginny's eyes were closed. She was sleeping "G'night," he whispered, before falling asleep himself. 

__


	10. Chapter 10

DISCLAIMER: I might be JKR's alter ego, but that doesn't mean I own HARRY POTTER! C'mon, you all should know that! My first self and Warner Bros. own him! Okay...I'm done.   
  
A/N: Thanks to my new keyboard. You are my saviour (no matter how old). Look at me, giving my typing-tool human qualities! Oh, and Mattie/Crookykanks/Minerva/McGonagall: Where are your emails? Note to my readers from the boards: Sorry I took so long! Everyone Review this!  
  
~JKR's Alter Ego~  
  
Chapter 10: Christmas   
  
Christmas came so quickly, Harry wondered what'd happened to the time. On Christmas Eve the castle was decorated with holly, and Harry spotted Professor Flitwick levitating a Christmas tree into the Entrance Hall. Harry, Ron, nd Hermione walked down to the Great Hall excitedly. The school was almost completely empty now that everyone had gone home for the holidays.   
  
They walked into the Great Hall, not surprised to see Christmas trees lining the walls. The Head Table had been situated, just like in Third Year, in the middle of the Hall.   
  
The threesome sat down at the table and began eating quickly.   
  
"In a hurry?" Dumbledore inquired from the head of the table.  
  
They slowed their pace. Harry ate some mince pies (which strongly reminded him of Mrs. Weasley)for dessert, and he went up to the common room alone. Ron and Hermione were still filling up on cakes and sweets when he left, and he was so full he didn't feel like watching them. He'd eaten so much he thought he might be sick. He entered the common room, sitting down in a chair and looking into the fire. Those house-elves were working extra now that Christmas had arrived, and Harry could only guess what Hermione must be thinking. Ron and Hermione came soon after Harry had sat down, giving him a start.  
  
"Harry, are you sure you're all right? Have you been sleeping well? Your eyes are all dark, and your face is sunken."  
  
"Er...Well, I've been having nightmares. This is going to sound odd, but they're about a door."  
  
"A door?" Ron asked.   
  
"Yeah. I know, but it's actually really frightening. You have no idea."  
  
Ron was looking at Harry as though he were from Pluto. Harry chose to leave out the fact that every night since the dream had come to him, he'd been going to the common room to talk with Ginny.   
  
As a matter-of-a-fact, Ginny and Harry had become close friends. They tended to have the same thoughts as well, and their conversations flowed as though they'd known each other forever....  
  
"Well, I suppose they'll get better. Nothing's happened yet, has it?"  
  
"That's right, Harry, but you don't know that it won't!" Hermione practically screamed. .   
  
"Yeah I do. I won't let it," Harry said defiantly before charging up the spiral staircase to the dormitory. Ron shrugged. Maybe Harry was right....   
  
  
  
* * *  
  
Harry woke up the next morning to Hedwig's loving nip.   
  
"Hi, Hedwig," he said sleepily, reaching for his glasses and putting them on. He grabbed for his presents sleepily. There were some donors who had conveniently forgotten to send gifts in their present state of being. Mrs. Weasley's usual jumper- Harry noticed sadly - was not there. Hagrid had not been around to send him Rock Cakes. Ron had sent him a Chudley Cannons poster, and Hermione sent him Bertie Bott's Every Flavour Beans and Fizzing Whizbees. The Dursleys had even managed to send him a surprisingly light envelope. Harry opened it, noticing something grey and fuzzy nestled near the bottom. He read the note that was enclosed. It read:  
  
"Straight from our back pockets."  
  
This was an all time low. The Dursleys had sent him lint. Clothes hangers and ten pence pieces were a bit better than this, but the Dursleys, who hated him beyond all belief, were prone to send him things of low quality.   
  
He walked downstairs, seeing Ron and Hermione. They were playing a game of Exploding Snap, engaging in deep conversation. He stopped on the last step.   
  
"...Well, I just think it's strange. One minute he's fine, and the next minute he's having nightmares about a door? We don't even know how long he's been having them. I'm going to talk to him...He should be up by now." She said, standing up.   
  
"Hermione! That's the boy's dormitory!" Ron was wearing a look of amazement. Hermione was breaking a rule!   
  
"I don't care! It's not like anyone's here-" She stopped abruptly, nearly running into Harry as she turned toward the staircase. "Oh, er... Hi, Harry!"  
  
"Hi," Harry said dully. "Just so you two know, I've been having the dream since November, but, as I've said before, nothing's happened yet, so it doesn't matter! Oh, and Ron, I like your sister!" With that last word, Harry ran out of the common room before Ron had a chance to process the information.   
  
[b]*A/N: Harry is not thinking is he? (Of course, what else is new?)*[/b]  
  
/"I want so badly,"/ Harry thought hotly as he stormed down a staircase, /"to go back there and tell them that I'm not mad."/ He jumped over a trick step without a second thought. Then, something came to him. /"Did I just tell him I liked Ginny?"/   
  
Sure, Harry liked Ginny, but he didn't /like/ her. Did he?   
  
It wasn't until he opened the oak front doors that he realised that he had no idea where he was going. He turned around and walked back up the marble staircase. He wanted to get his Firebolt . . .   
  
[b]A/N: Sorry this Chapter was so short! My sister left my notebook (the one that holds this entire chapter) at someone's house, so now I am forced to write what I remember. The last paragraph was not in my original draft, by the way. :) [/b] 


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